


Over and Over Again

by erinn_bedford



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Juliet and Livia are the worlds biggest schemers, Mostly Fluff, in which Ben is heartbroken and Ros is good at improvising, lots and lots of kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 12:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11759628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinn_bedford/pseuds/erinn_bedford
Summary: “We don’t seem to have enough time for you to charm any girl you want, so you can pretend to charm me.”It’s a ridiculous plan, something a sober and right minded Rosaline would never say. But she hasn’t danced with a cute boy since Escalus, and that was months ago. If the cute boy had to be Benvolio Montague, and only to spite his ex, then so be it.Or, Ros is lonely, Ben is heartbroken, and what happens next is really not their fault.





	1. Bound To Get Together

The club is not her scene, but Livia had insisted and then Juliet joined the pleading, so Rosaline was currently sitting at the bar, watching her sister dance with someone she didn’t know. Juliet had disappeared with Romeo Montague of all people a little bit before, so Rosaline was alone, as she predicted she would be.

It’s not that she doesn’t like the club, per say, it just brings up memories she would rather not remember. Memories about beautiful boys with soulful eyes who tell you they love you and then dump you unceremoniously, while at said club. So, she doesn’t hate the club, she hates the memories because she can’t bring herself to hate the boy.

The bartender refills her glass and she spins in the chair to glance around again, when _he_ steps into her vision.

Benvolio Montague, looking at little lost without his boys. His hair is a mess, in a pitiful way, the scruff on his cheeks a little bit more than scruff, and his eyes are sadder than usual. Not that she spends a lot of time looking at him, but the times they had run into each other in the past, more often now because of Romeo and Juliet, had given her a prototype. She takes a sip from her drink and the next thing she knows, he is standing next to her, ordering drink she’s never even heard of.

“Capulet.” He says, downing half the drink in a single sip.

“Montague.”

His eyes dance up to hers, his elbow brushing against her knee as he places his cup backdown.

“You look like shit.” She doesn’t mean to say it, but it slips out.

He laughs, harsh and hollow, just enough for his features to get even darker, before he takes another sip of his drink.

“Matches my personality then doesn’t it.” His words are typically teasing when it come to her, but now they just feel mean. Against himself. Somethings wrong and she shouldn’t care that much, but she is bored. They may not like each other very much but that doesn’t mean she wants to see him like this.

“I always thought you were more of a dick than shit.” She teases. Rosaline leans closer to him. “Are you okay?”

His head swings toward her so fast that he nearly knocks her teeth. “Why do you care?”

She steels her features before answering him. “Because, somethings obviously wrong and I was trying to make sure you were okay, but if you are going to be an asshole about it,” she grabs her drink and goes to move, but he places a hand on her arm.

“Wait,” His voice cracks, and she may not like him but she’s not going to leave him alone. “I’m sorry. My girlfriend broke up with me a few weeks ago, and I learned she’s moved on. The boys dragged me out tonight, I shouldn’t be taking it out on you Capulet.”

“See, wasn’t that hard was it.”

He sighs instead of answering her. And then, because she’s on her second drink, and slightly as miserable as the man next to her, she turns to him and proceeds to run her hands through his hair.

“What are you – ”

“Just because you are miserable does not mean your hair should be a disaster.” It takes a moment for her to realize just how close this brings them, but she can’t bring herself to mind. “There.” She pulls her hands back and smiles, feeling proud of herself. “Now, you can charm any girl you want into dancing with you tonight.”

He brings his hand up to touch it, but she swats his hand away. “Don’t ruin my hard work.”

Benvolio licks his bottom lip, and very, very suddenly, Rosaline’s throat is very, very dry. He looks like he’s about to say something else, when his eyes darken and his jaw clenches.

“Fuck.”

“Excuse me?”

“Stella. She’s here.” The broken look is in his eyes again, and Rosaline scans the crowd for said heartbreaker.

“Okay new plan.” Rosaline downs the rest of her drink, and grabs the Montague’s hands pulling him from the bar to the dance floor.

“What?”

“We don’t seem to have enough time for you to charm any girl you want, so you can pretend to charm me.” It’s a ridiculous plan, something a sober and right minded Rosaline would never say. But she hasn’t danced with a cute boy since Escalus, and that was months ago. If the cute boy had to be Benvolio Montague, and only to spite his ex, then so be it.

“You want me to charm you Capulet?” A smirk falls upon his lips, making him look more like the Benvolio Montague she knows.

“Only if you think you can.”

“That a challenge?” His hands migrate to her waist and Rosaline shrugs her shoulders, just as the music changes into a louder, more upbeat song.

It’s one that she used to dance to with her girls, all the way back in high school, and for a second, she’s brought back. Back to being 17, when Romeo claimed he was in love with her, leaving sonnets in her locker and singing to her in the hallways. He had asked her to prom and she had turned him down, because he was embarrassing her, because he was a Montague, and Capulets and Montagues did not like each other.

Her eyes shoot open and she glances around the room for Livia and Juliet. Livia is still dancing with the boy Rosaline doesn’t know, and Juliet is laughing at Romeo try to dance, so she relaxes, and Benvolio’s hands travel to her back to pull her closer.

She remembers Ben from high school then, too lanky for his own good, not yet grown into his skin. He was always in the back of those memories, jaw clenched, eyes dark. That image clashes with the man in front of her. He has a smile on his face, one she hasn’t seen in a long time. Their noses brush against each other’s, and Rosaline is once again reminded of how close they are.

“Thank you.” He whispers, lips brushing her ear. It sends a jolt of electricity through her body but she ignores it.

“For what?”

He takes her hand and spins her, laughter bubbling through her body.

“You didn’t have to do this. I mean, we don’t like each other very much –”

She places a finger over his lips, effectively shutting him up. “We don’t like each other for the principle of the fact. Because we are told not to. I like you enough that this isn’t a burden. So, shut up and dance, Ben.”

And she’s not lying to him. If it wasn’t for the stupid feud between their families, she is certain they would have been friends ages ago. They both are the mother hens of their friend groups, keeping an eye on everyone, picking them up when they needed it, herding them home when they had too much. And Ben challenges her. Maybe it’s because they are both the oldest, or the because they have the same creative type of mind, but whatever it is, when they argue or when they bicker or just talk, she feels like she feels invigorated.

His eyes flicker to her lips and he pulls her even closer to him.

“You said my name, Ros.”

His words effectively shut off her brain to everything except Benvolio Montague. She can feel every part of her body that is pressed against his. She can almost taste his breathe on her lips.

“This okay?” He asks, pulling her even closer. They aren’t even dancing anymore, just standing pressed up against each other in the middle of the dance floor.

Instead of answering his question, she slides her hands up his body until she can cup his face and drag his lips down to hers.

She kisses him until she can’t breathe, and then grabs his hand, pulling him through the crowd until she finds a dark corner, so she can kiss him again without worrying about someone knocking them over.

He says her name again before he kisses her, again when he licks his way down her throat, again when he bites on her collar bone.

His fingertips dance along the edge of her shirt, and she’s two seconds from dragging him into the bathroom, when she feels it. The vibrations coming from her left pocket. She groans, letting her head fall on Ben’s chest as she pulls her phone, to 5 missed calls and a voicemail from Juliet.

“Have you seen Ben? Mercutio’s throwing up and Romeo can’t handle him by himself, and if you find him, we’re in the south bathrooms.” The phone clicks, and Ben’s eyes stare into hers, pupils still wide, mouth red and bruised.

“Your boys need you.”

Ben sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Where?”

“South bathrooms. Need some backup?”

“No. the less people Merc has to talk while drunk the better. Should I send Juliet back here?”

“The bar will be good.” Rosaline tries not to be disappointed but she is. Ben Montague is possibly the best kiss she’s ever had, and it would all mean nothing come morning. It was a game, a ruse, and by tomorrow, they would be back to what they were before. Two people who didn’t like each other very much, but dealt with each other’s company because they had to.

She pats his shoulder as she walks past, because she can’t think of anything else to say.

“Hey Capulet.” He grabs her arm, just before she’s out of his reach. “For the record, I would have charmed the pants off you.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes him toward the bathrooms, trying to stop the smile from growing on her face.

“Until next time, beloved!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time ever writing a chapter fic, so I guess we'll see how it goes. Chapter title is from "Shut Up and Dance" by Walk the Moon. Thanks for reading!!!


	2. I Never Knew That Fate Could Be So Tongue in Cheek

Livia collapses on the other side of couch, looking way too put-together for someone who has had 3 classes since 8 am. She sits, silent for a moment, but Rosaline does not acknowledge her. She knows if her sister wants something, she will get it, so the longer she can do her homework before Livia starts talking the better.

“Ros.” She scoots closer and places a hand over her book. “When were you going to tell me about Ben?” Her eyes are sparkling in that very dangerous way; Rosaline knows she has something up her sleeve and she does not like it.

“Who?” Maybe if she feigns innocence she can get away with it.

“Ben. Benvolio. Of the Montague variety.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about Liv.” She tugs at her book, but Livia is prepared and pulls back harder, almost sending Rosaline tumbling to the floor.

“Ben’s ex, Stella, is in Juliet’s Drama class, and Jules overheard her talking about how it was obvious that Ben had moved on, since she had seen him dancing and making out with ‘that Capulet girl.’ Now, I was dancing with Paris all night, and Juliet was with lover boy, so that only leaves one Capulet girl left.” Livia rests her face on top of her knee and grins.

“Maybe she was thinking of Isabella, I mean, people used to think she was our cousin all the time.” Rosaline flinches at her own words, because for more than one obvious reason it would not be her.

“Isabella. Isabella Prince who is currently in Italy with her girlfriend of 3 years. Here, kissing a boy. No, I think that counts her out as well.”

Rosaline looks at her sister. She doesn’t know what she is supposed to say. That she kissed a Montague because of his sad eyes and stupid hair. Because he was heartbroken and she was lonely. Because maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t hate him as much as she’s supposed to.

“Liv—”

“Oh my god! Ros, you and Ben are going to have the world's cutest babies, and I already told dad that you have a plus one for the dinner on Sunday, it’s going to be great. Romeo’s not going to feel out of place or alone. We can double date with the Montague boys, and triple date with Paris is tow, and—” Juliet sighs and drapes herself across Rosaline’s lap. “This is the most wonderful news I ever eavesdropped on ever.”

“We’re not—”

“Yes you are. You guys are so ready to be public. What’s the point of keeping it a secret Ros?” Juliet interrupts.

“Yes, dear sister, pray tell.” Livia smirks at her, and Rosaline wants to run her head through a wall. When the Capulet girls make up their minds, there’s nothing anyone can do to stop them.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see dad’s face. He’s going to pop a vein.” Juliet says, smiling up at her cousin. “It’s going to be fantastic.

xXx

It takes her until Friday to realize she doesn’t have his number. Which could cause a major problem. She is fully intent on tracking him down somehow, when, as fate would have it, he walks into the campus coffee shop, Mercutio in tow.

She waits until they have their drinks and a table to ambush them, because it’s a lot easier to talk to someone when they don’t want to run away from their coffee.

Mercutio almost spits out his drink when she sits down. “Since when do you do social visits?”

She shoots him a glare, which he only grins at, before turning to the man in question. “We have a dilemma.”

Ben raises a single eyebrow over his cup. “We? Capulet, since when have you and I been a ‘we’?”

Mercutio is looking at them like they are his favorite soap opera, making this a lot harder than Ros thought it would be.

“My wonderful friends think you and I are dating.”

Mercutio snorts, coffee coming through his nose. Ben turns toward his friend. “Don’t you have class?”

“You know I don’t, Benny boy.”

“Merc.”

“Fine,” Mercutio sighs and swipes his cup from the table. “I’ll go somewhere where my presence is wanted.”

“Is that anywhere?” Rosaline says, unable to help herself.

“I’ll have you know Capulet, your boyfriend enjoys it very much.”

“He’s not my boyfr—”

Benvolio rubs his temple. “Merc.”

He’s gone the next second, blowing a kiss to them as he walks out of the coffee shop.

“I need to ask you a favor.”

His eyes find hers and she suddenly wants to kiss him again, but she can’t.

“Juliet told my uncle you were coming to this dinner party he is having on Sunday. And I need you to come. Because if I show up without you, my aunt will talk about how ungrateful I am, making her table look stupid and how they paid for the extra food, and I can’t handle that this weekend. Just one dinner and then I’ll tell the girls we broke up. Romeo will be there.” She’s babbling, talking to fast, staring at her coffee instead of him.

“Ros.” He places his hand over hers, stopping her. “Ros. I’m in. Free food and chance to piss off a Capulet I mean, I don’t need much more convincing.” He smiles at her, a real genuine, heart-stopping smile.

“Thanks. I owe you.”

He rolls his eyes and then somehow, they start talking, about class and life and plans for the holidays, and Rosaline feels like they are friends, and she’s not sure how it happened.

He asks about why the girls think they are dating, and she tells him about Stella, which causes the smile to get a little bit bigger and her heart to race a little faster. He buys her another coffee and they split a cookie, and before she knows it’s 7 minutes before her next class, and he’s walking across campus with her.

“Capulet,” he says, leaning against the building, holding out his phone to her. “In case you need to give me any heads up before Sunday.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing into a group of people walking past, and Rosaline is left wondering how the hell she got herself into this.

xXx

It’s really not fair that Romeo and Benvolio show up looking like they walked off the pages of an Armani catalogue. Benvolio even brushed his hair. Rosaline opens the door, but Juliet sees her boyfriend and throws herself past Rosaline into his arms.

Now they look like the belong in some movie and she’s stuck trying not to stare at her fake boyfriend.

“Capulet.”

“Montague.”

She tries not to blush as he scans her up and down; the blue dress she had chosen to wear suddenly feeling like it’s doing its job.

“You look nice, beloved.” There’s a teasing smile on his lips, one that she simultaneously wants to smack and kiss off.

“You clean up well too, I suppose.” She bites her lip, completely on purpose, and he takes a step closer to her, his hand reaching out to her.

A light snaps and Juliet looks up from behind her phone. “You guys are adorable.” She pulls them all closer so she can a picture of all of them, Ben’s body squished against hers, Juliet’s hair in her mouth, Romeo’s hand around her shoulders.

Juliet moves back, and then proceeds to take a dozen more photos, some of just the boys, some of her and Benvolio.

“I remember my first Capulet dinner.” Romeo says, shivering for effect. Juliet’s face pales a shade, but she blinks, and it’s like it never happened. “Good luck.” He claps Ben’s shoulder and grabs Juliet by the hand.

“We’ll see you guys inside!” she calls, dragging her boyfriend in behind her.

And then, they are alone, Ben’s arm still around her waist, staring at the spot their cousins were a second ago.

Rosaline moves first, stepping away from him and so she can pretend to fix her earring, pretend that she isn’t attracted to the idea of showing him her old room and locking the door.

“Any ground rules, Capulet?” Ben asks. He drags his hand through his hair, almost messing up whatever he had done to it, but somehow making it work.

“Just don’t do anything stupid.”

He holds out his arm, allowing her to wrap her hand around it as they walk into her uncle’s house. “What would stupid include?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but leans into him, smiling as someone walks past. “I trust you enough to figure it out.”

xXx

It was a mistake. Rosaline should know by now she should never trust a Montague to do anything.

Near the beginning of dinner, he leaned in close to her, asking if touching each other was something stupid. She said no, because she thought it was understandable that to be dating they would have to touch each other, but she had been wrong. She had been so, so wrong.

For the last half hour, his hand had been rest on her leg. It was almost invisible but it was incredibly distracting.

“What are you doing?” she hisses when his hand finds the small amount of skin on her knee before her hemline.

“Shhh.” His hand is hesitant, and he gestures to across the table where the cousins are in a similar position. And it makes sense, it’s something that couples do, something that Escalus had done at some of the Prince dinners she had attended, but it doesn’t make her any less tense.

Because she remembers what his lips felt like against hers, how his hands had danced along her body, how much she wanted those fingers on her bare skin.

It’s like the universe is teasing her, trying to make her regret one spontaneous decision.

The table conversation turns to business, and Romeo visibly shrinks in his seat. Rosaline realizes she forgot to warn Benvolio about this side of the dinners, but her mind is too preoccupied with his hand to tell him.

“How’s those Montague’s?” One of Mr. Capulet’s colleagues ask, and Benvolio’s hand on her leg stills for a second.

Romeo turns his attention to Livia, asking her about school, like he hasn’t seen her three times this week.

“Apparently enamored with the Capulet girls,” Mr. Capulet responds, turning nearly everyone’s eyes to the back of the table. Romeo had moved in such a way that he was hidden by others, but Benvolio stands out, suddenly the center of attention.

She doesn’t mean to, but she reaches for his hand and squeezes it before reaching for her drink.

“What are you studying?” another of her Uncle’s colleagues asks Benvolio, clear distaste in his face.

Benvolio’s thumb draws a circle on her leg and she nearly chokes on her water.

“Business. I am set to join my uncle once I graduate.” His jaw tightens, almost undetected by anyone, but she sees it.

“And Romeo is studying English, isn’t that right?” Mr. Capulet asks, drawing attention to the other Montague in the room.

“Yes, dad, as you continually bring up.” Juliet looks ready to throw her mashed potatoes at the wall.

There is a tension in the room, a dangerous one, that makes Rosaline feel like a fight is going to break out and ruin yet another function.

“How interesting,” the colleague says, looking less than interested before he turns back to his wife instead of answering more questions, breaking the spell.

Benvolio’s hand sweeps up her leg, delicately dancing over her dress, leaving the next second so he can cut his food. Rosaline thinks she’s in the clear until Livia kicks her under the table, the same mischievous grin on her face that she had the other day.

“So Ben, since my dear sister refuses to tell me, when did you two start dating?” Livia says. Paris had neglected to show up, offering an apology through his parents when they came without him. Livia was doing a great job of pretending it didn’t hurt, but Rosaline could tell she was upset.

Ben swallows his bite of food, and his hand drops back down to her leg. “About three weeks ago. I saw her in the library, studying so hard that she didn’t even see the world around her. And I thought, she’s the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. So, I sat down in front of her, stole her book, and asked her to coffee. The rest is history.” He looks to her with a glint in his eye which makes her want to punch him.

She remembered that day. He did not ask her to coffee, but if she was looking for her soul in her book, which resulted with her arguing with her until they got kicked out.

Romeo snorts, almost choking on his food. He had been there as well. In fact, she’s pretty sure he recorded the librarian kicking them out. “Yes, I was there. It was quite romantic.”

Rosaline is unsure if Romeo knows about the agreement that had come up with, but then he winks at her, and she’s the one who wants to start throwing mashes potatoes.

Benvolio’s fingers ghost along the edge of her dress, and it’s all too much. She can’t handle him, she can’t handle the room, she can’t handle her thoughts. Rosaline shoots up from the table, her knife clattering to ground. The conversation stops, all eyes turn toward her, and Mrs. Capulet looks ready for murder.

“Excuse me,” she says, pushing her chair in and escaping to the kitchen.

She lets herself out into the garden, needing a moment to breathe, a moment to think. Benvolio Montague is driving her crazy and she doesn’t know why.

“Capulet.” His voice is low. She feels his hand on her back, and he leads her further into the garden, away from the windows and prying eyes of the house. She flinches away from his touch, pushing him away from her the second they are hidden behind a willow tree. “I told them you had been feeling unwell all day.”

He steps away from her, leaning against the tree. His tie is loose and his hair is a mess, the poise he had at dinner gone.

“I’m sorry. If that made you uncomfortable. I was trying to make it believable, and I realize I might have taken it too far.”

Rosaline wants to slap him, to yell at him, to tell him off.

But she doesn’t.

Her lips attack his as she pushes him against the tree.

“I mean, how can you just be so casual about it. My uncle could have seen it. Do you know what he would have done? The first time he saw Romeo kiss Juliet’s cheek he nearly chased him out of the house with a steak knife.” Before he can answer, she presses her lips against his again. His hand is stopped on her waist, and he’s only barely kissing her back.

She pulls back, and stares at him, realizing that she has kissed him.

“Ros.” Benvolio’s tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to kiss me back.”

He tugs her forward and within seconds she has him out of his tie.

They should not be doing this. They are not actually dating, they aren’t actually anything. Kissing Benvolio Montague was not a part of Rosaline’s plan, but she doesn’t want to do anything else.

She starts to unbutton his shirt, mouth following her hands, when a twig breaks. Rosaline pulls herself back, and Ben attaches his mouth to her neck.

“Ros!”

Ben groans, pressing a kiss to where he had just bitten her.

“Ben! Where did you guys go?”

Ben straighten himself up, pulling her in for one last kiss. “By the willow tree!”

Romeo, Juliet, and Livia join them, Juliet holding out a change of clothes for Rosaline.

“Merc and Puck are bringing alcohol and the boys a change of clothes. And I invited some friends over. We’re going to have our own party.” Livia says.

“I dare say Ben, you did better than me on my first dinner.” Romeo says, shrugging out of his jacket.

“You did! Mr. Montague over here nearly ran out of the room crying when my dad started talking about business. He didn’t know whether to defend the Montagues or keep his mouth shut, and then they started asking him questions.” Juliet kisses his cheek. “I got him out of there as quickly as I could but I thought he would hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Romeo says, kissing her. Livia pretends to throw up and even Benvolio groans.

“Gross guys.” Livia says, grabbing Rosaline’s hand. “We’re going to change.” She drags her to the boat house. “Did you guys run off so you can make out?”

“No,” Rosaline says, throwing her dress at her sister.

“Really?”

“Livia. No. I was yelling at him for being an idiot.”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” Livia winks at her, throwing her dress back at her.

“Shut up.”

They link arms, walking back to group, where Benvolio and Romeo and Mercutio are working on getting the fire started, Puck and Livia’s friends setting up the drinks and someone is working on music.

It feels like it’s been years since the last time they did this, ran away from a Capulet party, knowing that Juliet’s parents would be too busy to check on them. Rosaline feels some of the stress from dinner leave her body.

The fire is warm, the music is loud, and Rosaline lets herself smile.

Benvolio materializes next to her, slipping an arm around her shoulders. He’s no longer in a fitted suit, but a pair of skinny jeans and a sweater, one she wouldn’t mind stealing, if they were actually dating.

Juliet’s eyes meet Rosaline’s over the fire, and for some reason, Rosaline tucks herself closer to Ben.

She feels him press a kiss to her hair and something inside of her cracks.

She likes Benvolio Montague. Enough that fake breaking up with him suddenly feels a lot harder than it should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter title from "Vivienne" by Sundara Karma.


	3. All You Have To Do Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of got away from me. It's pretty long, but it's also my favorite chapter. Chapter title is from "Stay" by Zedd and Alessia Cara, because it was stuck in my head for the majority of editing this. Thanks for reading!

They forget to break up.

Rosaline says it’s for convenience. Their friend group is so closely intertwined now, because of Romeo and Juliet, that it’s easier for them to stay together. Because breaking up would create questions and the need for a separation period, and in Rosaline’s opinion it is way too much work during midterm season. 

At least, that’s what she tells herself. They never speak about it directly. He hasn’t said anything in over three weeks, so Rosaline is going to let it be. There’s also the small fact that she still owes him a favor for coming to the Capulet dinner with her.

It’s three weeks of publicly being Benvolio Montagues girlfriend. Three weeks of screening her aunts calls after the party, three weeks of casually sharing the same side of the table with her ‘boyfriend’. Three weeks of going to his apartment to study, because the only time they had to pretend to be something there is when Juliet shows up with Romeo. Three weeks of learning Juliet is about to walk through the door and diving so they are on a couch together, three weeks of pretending. Once, she spills coffee on her shirt and is washing it in the sink when the door opens, sending Benvolio vaulting over the couch, tossing his shirt to the ground and scooping her onto counter, close enough that she can count his eye lashes.

Three weeks of not kissing him, even when she wants to.

Three weeks of Benvolio wrapping an arm around her shoulder, of Mercutio posting photos of them on his twitter, of accidental late night phone calls because Ros forgot her notes at his place or he couldn’t remember what time he was supposed to pick her up. Late night phone calls that would turn into quiet moments and happy memories, phone calls that would make them feel like friends.

Three weeks of Ben laying on her lap during movie nights and falling asleep with her hands in his hair.

Juliet drags them to the fall concert near the end of the third week, and Ben holds her hand the entire time, swinging it as they try to find a seat. He sits between her legs, singing along to the performance, joking with Romeo, Mercutio and Puck, pressing a kiss to her skin where they are holes in her jeans. 

It’s nice. It’s easy. And for a second, she forgets that it isn’t real.

xXx

It’s 2 am when her phone dings.

Her sound is loud, because Livia is spending the night with Paris, and whenever someone is out of the house, Rosaline keep her phone on extra loud in case they need her.

She groans, searching for it, expecting Livia to be asking for a ride, but instead, she’s greeted by _The Montague_.

She unlocks her phone and sits up, expecting something about a drunk Mercutio or Juliet sneaking out, but instead, it simply reads:

_u up?_

Rosaline nearly chokes on air. She hates him. She hates him and his stupid hair and his stupid smirk, and that fact that he thinks he can text her this, especially when he knows she has class tomorrow.

_What the fuck, Montague?_

It’s tamer than she wants it to be, but she’s tired, still slightly asleep, and not in the right mindset to tell him off.

She’s expecting a text back, something stupid and possibly drunk, but instead, her phone lights up, and the picture she took of him at a diner at midnight a week ago pops up on her screen.

She had taken the photo right as he started to laugh at something Mercutio had said, and she made it his picture, because that is what couples did and it was nice a photo. He looks happy.

Rosaline decides she’s not going to answer, but he calls again.

“What do you want, Montague, it’s 2 in the morning?”

“I’m cashing in my favor.” His voice is low and lazy, and it shoots heat right through her veins. It also makes her want to hang up on him and never speak to him again.

“I am not going to be your booty call.” She says. Her jaw is clenched, and she’s ready to throw her phone against the wall.

“Capulet! Capulet, wait I’m joking. Ros don’t hang up on me.”

There’s laughter in his voice and the urge to punch him diminishes slightly.

“You have two minutes.”

She can almost see him forming the joke, when he sighs instead. “I need you to be my date tonight.”

“Where?” She falls back onto her bed, turning the phone on speaker so she doesn’t have to hold it.

“Montague party. My Aunt Tessa is in town, and she wants everyone to know. I would have asked at a more reasonable time, but Romeo neglected to tell me until about an hour ago.” He moves at the other end of the phone, and she can hear his sheets rustling. She tries not to think of Ben in his room, in his bed, most likely shirtless, talking to her at 2 in the morning. It does not help with her confusing feelings about the Montague.

“And look, Ros, I know how hard it must be for you, with your parents and the car crash, and my second cousin not even getting a slap on the wrist, but I need you.” His voice almost cracks over his last words.

“Ben –”

“Look, my uncle only took me in because my dad made him promise. As he was dying, he made him promise and I was sitting there, so he had to keep it. But it hasn’t always been the easiest here, and I know you understand at least some of that. And, my Aunt Tessa, she hates me, even more than my Uncle, and Rosaline, I can’t do this alone. Romeo has Juliet, and Merc has Puck and –” He pauses, steadying himself. “You’re all I have.”

They are quiet for a moment, just the static of their phones between them.

“Please.” He whispers and she feels like he is in the room with her.

“Of course, Ben. Of course, I’ll come.”

“Thank you.”

Neither of them say anything for a while, but they don’t hang up either. It’s silent, but it’s comfortable. She can hear his breathing.

“Ben, I should go.” She whispers, in case he had fallen asleep.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll talk to you later then.”

“Good night.” She hangs up before he can say something else. She wants to sleep, but her entire body is awake, thinking about him.

xXx

He appears at her door, just seconds after she finishes applying her makeup. He’s in a grey suit this time, foregoing the tie for an open collar.

“You’re early.” She says. Rosaline stuffs her lipstick into her bag, avoiding looking at him. Something had changed, whether it was in the last few weeks, or the last few hours, she’s not sure.

“Yeah. Romeo left the apartment early, and I – uh, I didn’t want to be by myself.” He leans against the wall near, looking at her through the mirror.

They had reached a quiet understanding of sorts, knowing what it means to feel alone, to not feel wanted, so she doesn’t press it.

“Romeo’s not with you?”

“No, he insisted on taking separate cars.” Ben levels a look at her reflection and Rosaline nods in understanding.

There’s a knock on the door then, breaking their stare.

“Romeo left before you, but you made it her before him?” Rosaline turns, so he cannot look at her anymore, walking out of the bathroom and into the kitchen.

“He needed to pick up some things.”

“Oh, babe, they are beautiful.” Juliet says, sweeping into the kitchen, searching for a vase for the flowers in her hand.

“They reminded me of you.” Romeo says. He whispers something else in Juliet’s ear, causing her to blush and smack her boyfriend across the arm.

A few weeks ago, Rosaline would have teased them, rolled her eyes and called them gross. But she was supposed to be feeling the same way, about the man next to her. She had to play a part, because a single drunken kiss at a club had evolved into something else, even if it was just for show.

“God, get a room.”

She is very aware of exactly how close Benvolio Montague is to her, but she ignores it.

“Or,” Ben pauses, wrapping his arms around her waist. “We will be forced to out couple you.” Before Rosaline has a moment to react his mouth connects to her throat. She just barely suppresses the gasp that threatens to come out of her mouth.

“Save me! My eyes!” Romeo slaps his hand over his face. Juliet stands on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, and winks at them as they walk out of the apartment.

“See you at the party!”

The second the door closes, Ben is gone. He finds his way to the other side of the island, hand over his face, not able to look at her. She pretends she can’t still feel his lips on her neck.

They stand there in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say. The party doesn’t start for another 45 minutes, and it’s less than a ten-minute drive.

Rosaline stares at him, head in his hands, hair a mess, before situating herself on the counter.

“So, Tessa the terrible. Tell me what I need to know.”

His head pops up, his eyes finding hers, holding her gaze.

“You said she hates you. If I am to protect you, my beloved, form deranged family members, I might as well know how bitter I get to be.” She swings her legs back and forth, trying to appear casual, but she wants to know – needs to know – who broke this beautiful boy in front of her. Because, from what she’s learned, he deserves all the love in the world, and if she’s going to be there for him tonight, she wants to know what she can do to make him feel like he deserves it.

“She’s head of international trade. Comes home a few times a year. Always throws a party to let people know. She’s had three husbands, but no children, and she’s bitter about it. Bitter that I’m the oldest, bitter that Romeo’s choose teaching over the business, bitter that I am the one who is going to inherit the company, even if I don’t want it.” He stalls for a moment, staring at the ground instead of her.

“It was always supposed to be Romeo and I, partners, through everything. Especially the business and then he decides he wants to be an English teacher, and I’m proud of him for following his dream, but it just made my Uncle mad at me and made Tessa hate me even more. I’m pretty sure she hated my dad for marrying my mom, instead of one of her rich, successful friends. So, she takes some of that out on me, because my dad stopped talking to her over my mom. I’m the reminder.” He scrubs his hand through his hair. “Sorry, you don’t need me to unload all of this on you.

“No, it’s fine. Sometimes you need to let it out.”

He sighs, a rush of air, deflating his body. “I think they both hate me, because I look like my dad. And they put so much pressure on me, to be the head of the company, that I almost don’t want to be part of it anymore. I feel like I don’t deserve to be a part of what my dad built. Like I’m not good enough.”

She’s not sure when makes her way over to him, but she frames his face in her hands, pressing her forehead against his. “Fuck them.”

“What?”

“They can’t see how amazing you are, how good you are. So, fuck them. You deserve so much more than them.”

“I don’t Capulet, I really don’t.” His voice is raw, broken.

“You do. You are kind.” She runs her thumb over his cheek and he leans into her. “You deserve the world.”

They are close. Too close. His nose knocks against hers, they sway, until her back hits the counter. Her eyes find his, his sad, broken eyes, and she grabs his chin so he looks at her.

“You’re going to be great at running the business. Because you are different. You are good, Benvolio Montague.”

“Ros…” His lips just brush against hers, not long enough to even be considered a kiss, and then he’s gone, too many steps away for her to touch him.

“We should go.” He’s out the door before she can say anything. When she gets to the car, his standing, leaning against her door. He opens the door for her, ever the gentleman, and holds her hand as she gets in.

“Rosaline.” He says, once they are halfway there, stopped a red light. “You’re good too.”

xXx

They pull up to Montague Inc. the valet ready to take their car.

“Ready, Capulet?” He’s back to the Ben she knows. Eyes guarded, mouth teasing, hair an absolute disaster.

“Almost.” Reaching over, she stuffs her hands into his hair, making it a semblance of something other than a mess.

“I think you just want an excuse to touch me.” He says, winking at her as he gets out of the car.

“Obviously, my love. I mean, with such features, how could one not?” She takes his arm as they step inside. She had never been inside Montague Inc. herself, pointless feuds making sure the Capulets were never invited to the parties, but she knows these types of gatherings. Here, she is supposed to smile and be polite. Here, she is supposed to compliment on promotions and engagements, here she is supposed to flatter.

For the first hour, they amble around the room, Benvolio introducing her to some of the families he is aquatinted with. They bump into Romeo and Juliet a few times, and Rosaline is introduced to Mr. Montague, with slight distain in his eyes and a too-hard hand shake.

Benvolio stiffens next to her as a beautiful, terrifying woman makes her way through the crowd. Rosaline suddenly remembers her, a face from her childhood. She was a friend of Mrs. Prince, before she skipped town, a friend to Isabella as they grew up. Rosaline never particularly liked her, but Isabella adored her.

“Nephew.” Tessa croons, reaching forward to kiss his cheek. “It has been so long.”

Rosaline drops her hand into his and laces their fingers together.

“Aunt Tessa.”

“And who is this?”

“Rosaline.” He squeezes her hand. “Rosaline Capulet.” 

The woman’s eyes flash, and then she’s telling them all about her time in Scotland, asking about Benvolio’s time in college, completely ignoring Rosaline.

“Oh, and you’ll have to drop your minor in art.” Tessa adds, swiping a champagne glass from a waiter.

Rosaline feels Benvolio stiffen again, his grip on her hand becoming almost painful.

“What?”

“Sweetheart, you know I keep tabs on you. An art minor will be no help with the company. In fact, it will be no help with anything. I was thinking instead you could minor in political science.”

“Aunt Tessa, I have a year and a half left.” His voice is tight. The muscle in his jaw jumps.

Tessa goes to say something, but Rosaline cuts in. “I believe his minor will be a great help to the company.”

Two pairs of Montague eyes turn to her. “It offers a different way of looking at things. It is also a way of connecting with people.” Rosaline knows her argument is weak, but she cannot let this woman tear Benvolio to pieces in front of her.

“Do you know anything about business?” Tessa sneers.

“Well, from the business Journalism classes I’ve taken, and from spending time with my family, I know enough that I am sure Benvolio will be great at it. He’s just the kind of man my father would have hired.”

Tessa’s eyes go wide and her cheek flush with embarrassment.

“Excuse us. I think I see someone from school.” Rosaline leads Benvolio away from the vile woman, and the second they are out of her sight, she tugs him into a quiet hall, away from the party, away from everything.

His eyes are blank and his hand trembles slightly in hers.

“You didn’t have to –”

“Shh.” She gathers both of his hands in hers, bring them closer to her. Whenever she had a bad dream, one that would wake her up screaming, her mother would do this, take her hands, and hold her until she stopped shaking.

It was something she had forgotten. A piece of her mother that had disappeared sometime in the past few years.

She kisses his fingertips until he stops trembling, holds him close until his breathing returns to normal.

When he opens his eyes, there’s an intensity she’s never seen before. Her hands drop his, but she takes a step closer.

“Thank you.” He breathes, reaching to cup a hand around her cheek.

“No need to thank me. She was being ridiculous.”

“Rosaline.” His eyes dart to her lips for a split second. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.”

She squeaks as he pulls her closer, flush against his body.

“Come home with me.” He whispers, barely loud enough for her to hear him.

“Okay.”

xXx

His room is nothing like she thought it would be. It’s simply decorated, a desk, an easel, a bookcase, a bed.

In all the times she had studied at his apartment, she never saw his room.

He’s stands in the door, watching her as she investigates. Her hand trails along his sketch books, her eyes follow the lines of the paint, her feet trip on a sweater. 

“Shit, sorry.” He rushes forward to grab the shirt, tossing it and his dress shirt into his hamper. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He smiles, head tilted to the side.

“It’s just…”

“Just?” He’s moving toward her, making it hard for her to think clearly.

“Not how I imagined it.” She tries to meet his eyes as she says it, but his smile turns from teasing to downright sinful.

“You’ve imagined my bedroom before, have you Capulet?”

“Not like that!”

His hand snakes it’s way around her waist, and he pulls her flush against him, again, and she gasps, because this isn’t the corner of a club, this isn’t the willow tree in her Uncle’s garden. This is his room, with a door that locks and a bed, and this is Benvolio, the man she is supposed to hate, the man who she is not really dating, the man who is about to kiss her.

“Do you have to be home?”

She shakes her head instead of answering, because she’s not sure if she can speak at the moment.

He purposely knocks his nose against hers, before lifting her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist as he walks them to his desk, the one covered in sketchbooks and loose papers. Gently, he places her down before moving to stand between her legs.

“I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

She nods, twisting her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. There’s a pause, a single moment, where he looks at her like she’s hanging the moon in the sky, and then his lips just taste hers.

It’s the first time he’s kissed her first and it’s not something she should realize, but she does, only for a second, before his lips slide against hers again, and her brain turns to nothing expect for him. The kiss has the passion of the one at the club, and the urgency of the one by the willow tree, but there’s something different about this one. Something more certain, more sure, like this kiss has a destination and a plan.

He fiddles with her dress zipper and then it’s gone, red fabric sliding onto the floor, his shirt joining it seconds later.

His hands are suddenly everywhere, his mouth hanging slightly open as he looks at her. Her hands tangle in his hair and she pulls, dragging his mouth back to hers.

“I think you’re obsessed with my hair.” He says, through kisses, hands dancing and down her sides.

“I think you could be using that mouth for better things than talking.”

He gives her a wicked grin before he starts licking his way down her throat, leaving open mouth kisses along her collar bones. His hands trail up and down her skin, and he pauses for a moment, hot breath washing over her bra, before his hand travels up under the strap.

“Ben…” she chokes out, stalling his lips over her chest. “Bed.”

He lifts her again, gently placing her down on the mattress. He kisses her, soft and sweet, before dropping his pants at the end of the bed. She takes a moment to watch his chest as he crawls toward her, her hands reaching for him as he presses kisses along her thighs.

“Capulet,” he says, his hands ghosting over her waistband. “I’ve officially charmed the pants off you.”

“Oh, my god, you idiot!” She smacks him with a pillow, and he laughs, his warm breath washing over her belly. He moves up, capturing her lips again, smiling against them.

“You’re going to ruin me.” He whispers.

They stare at each other, eyes close enough that she could count every one of his eyelashes if she wanted.

He pulls her up until she’s sitting in his lap. Ben brushes a piece of hair behind her ear, and she rocks forward, just slightly, and this, this whole whatever they are pretending to be is going somewhere, somewhere they can’t come back from, somewhere she is willing to go if he is.

“Is this okay?” She asks, trailing her hand down his chest, repeating his words from earlier.

He nods, and she understands, understands what if feels like to be rendered speechless by someone.

She leans forward, ready to kiss him again, to let their action to take their course, to lo-

His phone rings.

“Jesus.” He laughs, a single, harsh sound. “What if I don’t answer.” His voice is ragged. His lips catch on her shoulder.

“You should.”

He sighs, reaching for his phone.

“What?”

“Tybalt.” Juliet says. It’s a single name, but Rosaline grabs the phone and puts it on speaker phone. She can hear her cousin sob into the phone.

“Jules, what’s going on?” Ben says. Rosaline can feel the tension enter his body.

“Tybalt came home. And he found us in Romeo’s car, and Ben, I think he’s going to hurt him. I called my dad but he won’t answer. You’re the closest one who can stop him. Ben, please.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Rosaline rolls off the bed so she can grab her phone, shooting Juliet a text as Ben gets dressed.

“You’re afraid of him?”

Rosaline turns to him. “No. I’m afraid of what he’s capable of. He left for Australia before Romeo and Juliet got together. And he hates you guys. He’s the taking over the company in a few years, and he firmly believes in the feud.” She pulls her knees up to her chest. “Do you want me to come?”

Ben shakes his head. “If he truly hates us that much, it might make matter worse to see another Montague with a Capulet.” He pulls on his shoes. “You don’t have to leave.”

She raises a single eye brow at him, and his cheeks turn pink. “I mean, you can stay, if you want, I mean,” He stops, and surges forward to kiss her. “I’ll be back.”

She finds herself up and around his room a few minutes after he’s left, looking for a sweater to put on while she waits for Juliet to get back to her. On her way to his closet, she trips, nearly falling over one of the sketch books that had tumbled to the ground. She has all the intent of putting it back, to not look at it without his permission, but she catches a glimpse before she closes it.

A flash of blue, and the edges of a face, her face.

She opens the book and the sketch is beautiful. Drawing her is in the blue dress from the dinner at her Uncle’s, and she’s fixing her hair, staring at something he hasn’t drawn.

The next page is her smiles, a cup of coffee in front of her. The next her hands cupping his face, the next and next and next, all her, different moments of their friendship, different moments of her.

It’s all too much.

She grabs her dress and her purse and is out the door before she can think anything else. He asked her to stay, but she couldn’t. They don’t even like each other, she reminds herself, texting Livia to pick her up.

Their relationship is fake; it’s a ruse to make her cousins happy. She didn’t plan to start falling for him, she didn’t plan to want to kiss him, she didn’t plan on wanting it to be real.

“Are you okay?” Livia asks, pulling away from the curb and back to their apartment.

“I’m fine.” Rosaline says, despite the tears prickling at her eyes.

“Ros.”

“Tybalt’s back in town. He found out about Romeo and Juliet.”

“Oh, no. Where are they?”

“No, Ben,” Her voice cracks over his name, and she hates herself. “He’s taking care of it.”

Her phone finally dings. “Benvolio is going to drop her off on their way to the hospital. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea for them all to be seen together anymore tonight.”

“Ros, are you –”

“Livia. Please. Not tonight.”

Livia nods and the rest of the drive home they are silent.

She doesn’t text him when she gets back home. She doesn’t text him when Juliet comes in, crying and shaking, cursing the stupid feud between their families. She doesn’t text him when Romeo calls Juliet telling her he’s okay, asking if she is.

He doesn’t text her either.


	4. If All My Defenses Come Down

“How is he?”

Juliet is curled up into herself on the couch, a History Channel special playing on the TV. She lifts her head from her knees, eyes still bloodshot from crying.

“Alive.” She laughs, but it sounds bitter. Rosaline falls onto the couch next to her, and Juliet twists so she can rest her head on her lap.

“He’s better than expected. Still bruised. Some cuts that will take a while to heal, but he didn’t break anything.” She sniffles, and folds into herself more. “His dad has him under house arrest though, so I won’t be able to see him for who knows how long.”

“At least he’s okay.” Rosaline runs her hand through her cousin’s hair. Juliet shrugs.

“I know it’s only been three days, but he’s hurt because of me, Ros. I swore I would never hurt him, and if Ben hadn’t shown up, Tybalt could have killed him.”

“I don’t think –”

“You weren’t there. You didn’t see his eyes.” She’s trembling, tears soaking through Rosaline’s jeans. “And dad. I’ve never seen anyone look so angry and so prideful at the same time. When he spoke to Tybalt, he barely even condemned him. All he could talk about was the stupid business and how he’s so lucky Romeo isn’t pressing charges.”

“He’s not?”

Juliet shakes her head. “He said he loves me too much to that. He wouldn’t even fight Tybalt. He just stood there and took it. The only time he fought back was when Tybalt tried to hit Ben.”

Rosaline’s heart stops. “He hurt Ben?”

“No, no. Ben was able to stop him and defuse the situation enough.” Juliet pauses, sitting up abruptly. “Wait, you haven’t spoken to him?”

Rosaline’s cheeks heat up, and she ignores Juliet’s stare. “We’ve both been busy.”

“Ros.” Juliet grabs her hand. “Livia told me she picked you up that night are you guys ok –”

Rosaline’s phone dings. His name pops up.

It’s been three days. Three days since she left. Three days since she’s heard from him.

_We should talk._

It’s the three words no one ever wants to hear.

“Was that him?”

Juliet shakes Rosaline out of her own head.

“Yeah. He’s on his way over.”

Juliet’s phone rings just then, dragging her attention away from Rosaline.

“Romeo is coming with him!” She jumps up, and frantically looks around. “I haven’t showered. If they get here before I come out, cover for me.” She presses a kiss to Rosaline’s temple. “Oh, and Ros.” She pops her head out from the bathroom door. “Whatever is going on between you and Ben, I know you will work it out.”

xXx

Rosaline cleans her room and attempts to make herself look presentable before the Montague boys show up. Which is stupid, because Benvolio probably hates her and no matter how clean her room is, that’s never going to change.

Juliet sweeps into the room, freshly showered and in her favorite dress, just before the boys knock on the door. And then, she’s in Romeo’s arms, crying and whispering apologies and Rosaline feels out of place. Romeo looks a little worse for wear, a split lip and a bruised eye, but overall fine. He holds onto Juliet, pressing kisses into her hair and Rosaline is so caught up in looking at them she almost forgets about the other person in the room.

Almost.

Ben’s hand brushes against her arm and suddenly everything hurts. Because Rosaline knows what is about to happen, but she wants to ignore it. For at least another second.

“We need to talk.” His lips brush over her ear and her knees nearly give out.

“Yeah.” She swallows, before taking his hand and leading him to her room. She collapses onto her bed, pulling a pillow to her chest, refusing to look at him.

“I think we should break up.”

Over Benvolio’s shoulder, Rosaline can see Juliet’s face right before the door closes. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens to say something, but before she can, the door cuts her off, and Rosaline is left alone.

“Or whatever the equivalent of ending a fake relationship is.” Ben positions himself on the edge of her desk, eyes rimmed with dark circles, shadow of a bruise on his cheek, hair a mess.

“Okay.” She feels like she’s swallowing glass.

Ben looks up at her, and there’s something in his eyes, something that looks like hurt, but he blinks and it’s gone.

“Okay.” He laughs, harsh, biting, and pushes himself up again. “How should we do this? Quick and quiet, loud and dirty?”

She never wanted it to come to this. She wanted them to part, maybe not as friends, but at least friendly, but there’s a fire in Benvolio’s eyes, and something inside of her is close to cracking. She shrugs, instead of answering him, because it hurts too much.

“We can yell at each other. Make it more believable for them.” He gestures toward the door.

“Whichever works best for you.” Rosaline stands too. They face each other, not close enough to touch, eyes looking anywhere but at each other.

It’s the first time he’s been in her room. It strikes her, the difference between now and the other night.

“You go first.” He says, voice raw.

She wasn’t expecting that. “Okay, um.” She closes her eyes, trying to steady herself. “Why?” The word is short, loud.

“Why? I don’t know Capulet, are you happy? Because I know I’m not.”

The words come so fast that she isn’t prepared for them.

“Are you even trying to be?”

“You Capulets think –”

“Fucking Montagues –”

“As if I could ever be happy with the likes of you.”

“As if you could ever be anything but a stuck-up dick.”

They fling insults at each other, their voices getting louder, their bodies moving closer. Something in the air shifts, and suddenly it doesn’t feel pretend anymore.

“Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t be him!” Benvolio says, throwing his arms up, moving away from her.

“Excuse me?”

“Escalus.”

His name stops her short. Every part of her that was screaming is now silent.

“He has nothing to do with this.” Her voice is calm, so calm it almost scares her.

“Are you sure?”

“Maybe all of this is because of Stella!” It’s a low blow, even for her. Because all of this is because of her.

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“You did it first!”

They are moving again, closer to each other, closer to their breaking points.

“This isn’t about them.” Rosaline whispers to him once he is close.

“It’s about us.” He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have –”

“Stop. It’s fine. Let’s just get this over with.” Her entire body is buzzing with angry energy. She wants to stop fighting. She wants to stop screaming. She wants to stop hurting.

“Yeah.” He swallows and closes his eyes. “I should have known.”

“What?”

“That you were going to leave, Rosaline.” He tangles his hand in her hair, pressing their foreheads together. His voice changes, becomes softer, only for the two of them. “You were always going to leave.” He wipes a tear from her cheek, and then steps back, turning away from her.

“I’m done.” He says, loudly, for the effect. He places something on her desk before making his way toward the door.

“Me too.” Rosaline turns away from him, not able to watch him leave. “You should slam the door.” She whispers, right before he goes.

“I know how to break up with someone, Capulet.”

The door slams, echoing throughout the entire apartment. She can hear him, saying something to Romeo, walking toward the door. She waits three breathes, until she hears the front door click, before she sinks to the ground, the tears pouring out of her eyes.

Something about the fake fight feel real, feels final.

Her phone dings.

_I think they bought it._

She tosses the device at the wall and lets herself cry.

Because, most of what he said was right. She’s indecisive, doesn’t fight for what she wants. She’s afraid. Afraid of commitment. She lost her parents, and then the people who were supposed to love her, to take care of her, hated her, made her hate her own existence. So, she isolated herself. Only let Livia and Juliet in. Even Isabella, her best friend, Rosaline keeps her at arm’s length. And then, she let in Escalus, she loved him, with ever part of herself. And he crushed her. He crushed her heart, her confidence, her soul. Even though he was gentle, she became afraid again.

She built walls, and faked smiles, until Benvolio. And she became afraid. Of giving someone her heart again. So she ran. Like a coward. Away from him, away from what they could have been.

Her phone dings again and she reaches across the floor to grab it.

_I think we’re square on favors._

The final piece of her heart cracks. Something tells her she’s talked to Benvolio Montague like a friend for the last time.

xXx

Livia and Juliet break into her room 20 minutes later, three pints of ice cream, _Pride & Prejudice_ in their hands.

They don’t say anything, knowing how Rosaline is, but they lift her up and drag her to the couch, and wrap her in at least three blankets.

By the end of the movie, she’s numb. Her head hurts from crying, her eyes a dry, and she hates herself for getting so worked up over a boy.

The voice in her head tells her he wasn’t just any boy, but she silences it.

“What happened to Romeo?” She asks, trying to get back to normal, back to okay.

“I sent him home with his cousin.” Juliet says. She brushes a curl behind Rosaline’s ear.

“But Jules –”

“Don’t but Jules me. He is fine. He can wait. You,” she pauses, bopping Rosaline’s nose. “Are my cousin. My best friend. Chicks before dicks.”

“Bras before bros.” Livia adds, coming back to the couch with another pint of ice cream.

“Were you crying because he broke your heart, or because breakups are literally the worst thing in the entire world, only after periods.” Juliet asks.

“I’m crying because I hate boys.”

“Me too!” Livia says.

“Me three.” Juliet leans across Rosaline to steal some of the ice cream.

“What are you two talking about. Paris has been nothing but amazing, and Romeo is perfect.”

“Ehh.” Livia shrugs. “Paris is still a boy, who occasionally makes me want to rip my hair out.”

“And Romeo is…”

“Go ahead try to find something bad about him.” Rosaline teases.

“His poetry! It’s horrendous. He’s so much better at fiction.”

Rosaline laughs, and for a second, the pain in her chest isn’t so present.

“Boy are idiots,” Livia says, pressing a kiss to Rosaline’s cheek.

“No matter how perfect.” Juliet says kissing her other cheek.

Livia tosses herself onto them, making them a mess of limbs and blankets, and Rosaline feels like everything just might turn out okay.

xXx

Rosaline crawls back to her room at about 4 am, after Juliet wakes up on the couch and proceeds to push Rosaline to ground on her way to glass of water. Everything hurts, the stupid side effect of crying for so long, and all she wants to do is sleep.

Before she can, she reaches for her charger at her desk, but her hand brushes against something that shouldn’t be there.

It’s a small book, like the sketch books she had seen in Ben’s room not 3 nights ago. She contemplates throwing it away, but something makes her open it.

Her name is written on the front cover, and scrawled underneath it says:

_It didn’t feel right to have this._

She flips through the pages and at first glance, the drawings are similar to the other sketchbook she had seen, but then she sees it. These sketches feel more intimate. It’s her face after she’s kissed him, it’s her hair a mess on his couch, it’s the pattern of her bra the day she spilled coffee on her shirt. It’s the moments she’s afraid to think about, the moment that made whatever game they were playing feel real.

It was a book of what they could have been if she wasn’t so afraid. The ache in her chest is back tenfold, and the urge to cry again settles behind her eyelids.

She’s halfway to garbage can when she stops. Instead, she tucks it behind a book on her bookshelf. She curls up into bed, into herself, intent on getting over this. On getting over him.

But she doesn’t know if it’s possible to get over someone you never truly had.

xXx

“We are having a girl’s night!” Juliet says, sweeping into Rosaline’s room, heading straight for the closet.

“Excuse me?” Rosaline looks up from her homework, only to have a dress be thrown in her face.

It’s been three weeks since whatever happened with Benvolio happened. Three weeks since they fought, since they spoke, and since Rosaline decided to swear off boys and dating for at least a year.

“A girl’s night.” Livia collapses on her bed, resting her head on Rosaline stomach. “You know, clubbing, dancing, overall drinking too much. No boys allowed.”

Juliet throws another dress at Rosaline and the jumps on the bed.

And she doesn’t want to go out, but the girls are looking at her with such pity and hope in their eyes, that Rosaline would probably do anything they want her to do.

“Fine, where are we going?”

xXx

At this point, Rosaline should really know that agreeing to things because of Juliet and Livia’s puppy dog eyes is never going to end well.

 _Friars_ is the only club within a reasonable walking distance with a good DJ and decently priced drinks, and it’s the only club they ever go to. No matter how much Rosaline hates it. No matter how many memories are contained inside its walls.

The second she walks in she knows she’s doomed.

All she can think about are soft lips and stupid smirks and _him_.

Livia latches onto her arm and Rosaline fakes a smile for her sister’s sake.

They dragged her out tonight to get her to stop thinking about failed relationships, so the least she can do is pretend. Even if it’s only to make them think she’s okay.

They only get a few feet into the club when they spot Romeo. Juliet’s smile melts into a scowl, and for a moment, Rosaline feels bad for the Montague.

“What are you doing here?” Juliet jabs her finger into her boyfriend’s chest and he almost spills his drink.

“Jules?” He nearly chokes on his beer, obviously surprised to see his girlfriend. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you it was girls night!”

“I thought you would be going to the movies or something. How was I supposed to know –”

Juliet cuts him off with a roll of her eyes. “Whatever. Just please tell me he isn’t here.”

Rosaline detaches herself from Livia and moves away from the conversation, not wanting to be a part of it anymore. They had promised her a night of drinking and dancing and forgetting, and seeing Romeo Montague was not helping.

She makes it about two steps before she quite literally runs into Mercutio.

“Rosaline.” He steadies her before she falls, and opens his mouth to say something else, but she brushes past him and heads to the bar. She needs a drink. Preferably something strong and expensive.

Three more steps and she see him.

Benvolio Montague looking so good it should be illegal. His hair is a perfectly teased mess, almost begging for her hand to run through. The difference between him tonight and the first night of their relationship is staggering. He dressed simply in a black t shirt and jeans and it shouldn’t be enough to make her heart skip a beat but it is.

She orders a shot, her eyes still glued on him and the tiny brunette is wrapped around. The girl slides her hands up Benvolio’s chest and Rosaline downs the drink, ordering another before she can think too hard about it.

Then, as if he can feel her watching him, his eyes jump up, landing on her. He can see her. Rosaline feels like he can see right through her.

The look on his face shifts, his carefree attitude disappearing in a blink.

Benvolio pulls the girl closer, and Rosaline tears her eyes away, taking the shot and ordering something fruity and expensive. She is going to stop thinking about him. She is going to have fun.

“I’m sorry.” Livia materializes next to her, wrapping her arms around Rosaline.

“For what?” Rosaline’s head bumps gently against her sisters as Livia hooks her chin over her shoulder.

“I should have known better than to come here. We should have gone somewhere farther away, maybe somewhere in the city. I know you hate it here.” 

“Livia, I’m fine.”

Rosaline can’t see her sisters face, but she knows she’s looking at the spot where Rosaline was staring just seconds before.

“Rose, you don’t have to be –”

“Shut up.” She takes a sip of her drink before offering some to her sister. “Now you promised me a night of dancing, so let’s go.” Grabbing Livia’s hand, she pulls her out onto the dance floor.

Juliet joins them a moment later, promising her boyfriend will keep his distance. Rosaline smiles at her girls, and then she dances, dances like she hasn’t in ages. She dances until her feet hurt and until she’s so happy that she feels like nothing can bring her down.

Tonight is about making happy memories. The club had become synonymous with heartbreak and headaches, and Rosaline wants to kill that. She wants to be happy. She wants to dance with Livia and Juliet, to scream the lyrics of terrible pop songs, to sweat out all the bad shit in her system.

She dances until she can’t, until she feels too sober to continue.

“I’m going to get a drink!” she says to Livia, making her way to the bar. Before she’s even halfway through the crowd, someone grabs her arm and pulls her. She’s ready to punch them in the face when Mercutio smiles at her, twisting her around the dance floor.

“Capulet!” He tugs her closer, lips meeting her ear. “We have things to discuss.”

Her newfound good mood melts away and the urge to punch him suddenly comes back.

“I need a drink!” She yells to him, hoping he would let go of her arm, but he just swings his arm over her shoulder and moves toward the bar.

She orders her drink and before she can even pull out her wallet, Mercutio slaps down his gold card.

“What would your boyfriend think of you buying a girl a drink at the bar?” She teases him. In the few weeks of her and Benvolio being whatever they were, she had developed a sort of friendship with the glorious long haired man in front of her. It became second nature to tease him, knowing he could dish it out just as bad.

“He would say I am very good friend.” He takes a sip of her drink before she can get to it.

“Where is he, anyway?”

“Puck? He’s on a camping trip with his friends. That’s not what we have to talk about though.”

Rosaline takes a very big sip of her drink before turning back to him. “Okay then, shoot.”

He looks at her like he trying to figure out a math problem, like he’s not the one who cornered her. She raises an eye brow over her drink and he sighs.

“What did you do to him?”

The rest of her good mood evaporates and she’s left with the dull feeling she had been trying to control nearly all month.

“Who? Puck?” She asks. She doesn’t want to talk about Benvolio. She especially doesn’t want to talk about him to his best friend.

“What? No, Ros, Ben. What did you do to Ben?”

“What makes you think I did anything to him?” She’s trying to keep an air of casual indifference, but it hurts. She’s pretty sure Mercutio can tell.

“You see that guy he’s talking too?” Mercutio wraps his arm around her shoulders again so he can direct her vision. Benvolio says something that makes the guy laugh and Rosaline feels her gut twist. “That’s the 5th person he’s flirted with tonight. Do you know how many people he typically flirts with? None. We’re lucky if we can get him to flirt with anyone.”

“I don’t see how this is a problem, or how it has anything to do with me.”

“You don’t see how –” Mercutio stops and runs a hand over his face. “Capulet. Rosaline. My sweet Verona Rose, this has everything to do with you.”

“How –”

“He’s been different ever since you broke up.” Mercutio says.

“You of all people know what we had wasn’t real.”

Mercutio looks ready to tear his hair out in frustration. “I dated that boy for 6 months! We ended as friends but it still, you know, sucks. He dated Stella for even longer. And after they broke up he was in a two-month long slump, but this!” He stops and gestures toward the dance floor. “This is something else entirely. You can’t say what you guys had was nothing, Rosaline, because I’m on the other end and he’s – I don’t know, he’s not himself.”

“Mercutio…”

“So I ask you, again, Ros, what did you do to my best friend.”

“I left.” The words slip out before she can process what she is saying. “He asked me to stay and I left.”

It feels different, saying it out loud instead of keeping to herself. Like it’s more real. Like it actually is the end.

“Rosaline.” Mercutio looks at her with such sadness in his eyes, and she feels like screaming, or crying, or running or –

She need to leave. She suddenly feels like she’s going to cry again, and she refuses to cry in public, refuses to let him see her cry.

“Happy now?” She shoves Mercutio’s arm off her shoulder and moves back onto the floor, hoping she can find Livia and Juliet quickly.

The song changes and the crowd surges, sending her flying into someone.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters, still staring at the ground. She looks up before she moves on, causing her heart to stop. Bright blue eyes stare back at her. Benvolio Montague stares back at her.

Livia crashes into her, pushing her away from him, away from his eyes. “Ros!” Her eyes search Rosaline’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I want to go home.” Her hands tremble slightly, and she hates herself. Hates herself for letting him affect her, hates herself for ruining everything, hates herself for crying.

“Okay. Hold on just let me grab Juliet.”

It’s stupid because she doesn’t want to be crying over Benvolio Montague again, but she’s admitting it to herself now. It’s her fault they fought. It’s her fault they ended.

What they had was more than a fake relationship, and she burned it to the ground like she does with everything else.

Livia and Juliet latch onto her a second later, and she makes her way through the crowd, eyes straight forward, missing the way Benvolio watches her as she leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Okay, so I know next to nothing about _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. I choose the name Puck because it was the first Shakespearean name I could think of that wasn't Hamlet, and I became attached to it. Also, I chose _Pride & Prejudice _ to be Rosaline's break-up movie partly because it's my favorite movie ever, and partly because I could probably write an essay comparing Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth to Ros and Ben. Chapter title is from "Lay it On Me" by Vance Joy. Thanks for reading!


	5. I'll Keep Running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, this has officially become the longest fandom fic I have ever written. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's been commenting, especially on the last chapter, because I wasn't extremely confident on it, and you guys just brightened my days. Chapter title is from James Bay "Running." (This chapter is alternatively titled how many different ways i can describe Benvolio Montague's smile in just over 2000 words.) Thanks for reading!

She’s okay.

At least, that’s what she tells herself.

Rosaline blinks and suddenly she hasn’t spoken to Benvolio for longer than they had been together.

She makes it through finals, passing with flying colors. She sits through three Capulet dinners, avoiding her aunt’s glares and questions about her ‘boyfriend’. She makes it through lonely Fridays and snowy Wednesdays, and New Year’s at Merc’s leaving 2 hours before midnight, not because she sees _him_ , but because she’s tired, and watching all of her friends kiss their significant others is not something she wants to do.

She even makes it through seeing Escalus at Isabella and Helena’s engagement party, walking in with Stella on his arm. She makes it through a conversation, through a hug, through the entire party, not a single ounce of regret coursing through her.

She handles Isabella coming for only a week, through sending her back to Italy, through sitting home alone because Livia is with Paris and Juliet is with Romeo. She makes it through Romeo talking about Ben in passing, through run ins at the grocery store, through pictures on her Instagram.

And she’s okay.

At least she tells herself she is.

She’s alone on another Friday night, but she’s has her ‘good mood’ playlist as loud as it can go, a nice plate of brownies in the oven, and a new book calling her name once she finishes her assignment. It’s not the best Friday she’s ever had, but she’s going to make the best of it.

Just as she takes the brownies out to cool, her phone dings. She hums along to the song as she dances across the kitchen.

_I need you._

Rosaline’s heart drops. The last time Livia texted her that, their parents has been in the car accident. She’s halfway out the door, pulling on her shoes and getting the directions to Livia’s location when it hits her.

Their car is in the shop.

She has no way of getting to her sister.

Before she knows it, she’s typed in seven numbers, and her phone pops up with his contact. But she can’t call him. They haven’t spoken in nearly three months.

Rosaline racks her brain for anyone else, but Juliet and Romeo are an hour away, Isabella is on her way back to Italy, Merc and Puck are on a holiday, and all of her school friends are out according to their snapchats.

She punches in the last two numbers before she can think about it too long.

“Capulet?” He answers on the first ring. It’s the first time she’s heard his voice since they ended things, and it almost shatters her already fragile heart.

“I need your help.” 

xXx

He makes it her apartment in record time.

“Thank you.” she says climbing into his car. “I know you don’t owe me anything –”

“Shut it, Capulet.” He says, voice soft. “This isn’t about us. It’s about Livia.”

 _When did you and I become an us._ The voice inside her head mocks her, bringing up the meeting that started this whole entire thing.

She sends a quick text to Juliet, just to let her know what’s going on, and another to Livia telling her she’s on her way.

Benvolio is in a pair of sweats and a winter jacket, a beanie pulled down over his ears. They haven’t spoken in over three months, but she can still remember how his lips taste against hers, how he likes it when she plays with his hair, how his voice sounds at 2 in the morning over the phone.

He glances over at her when they pull up to a red light, and it’s the first time she’s really looked at him since she ran into him at Friar’s.

“She’s going to be okay.” He says, once the light turns green and he’s focused back on the road.

And she’s not entirely sure what’s wrong, and she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to say back, but there’s something comforting about having Benvolio with her.

She knows she should say something to him, anything really, but instead she says, “Turn here,” and keeps her thoughts to herself.

xXx

They find Livia, standing outside of Mantua Mansion, jacketless and crying. Rosaline’s out of the car before Benvolio can stop, pulling her sister in a hug. Benvolio grabs a blanket from the trunk and wraps her in it, blasting the heat once Rosaline can get her inside the car.

“Liv,” Rosaline pulls her sister close, trying to stop her teeth from chattering so loud. “What happened?”

Livia tries to respond, but another sob wrecks her body.

“He cheated on me.” She says, once she’s able to relax. “With one of uncle's secretaries.”

Rosaline can feel the tension enter her sisters body again. She pulls her closer, gathering her hands and bringing them up to her lips. She starts to hum a nursery rhyme, like their mother did when they were little, and Livia calms down slightly.

“I was going to tell him yes. He asked me to marry him two day again, and I was going over to say yes.” She takes a shaky breath, and sinks further down into the blanket.

“Oh, Livia.”

“How could I be so stupid.” The tears start to slip from her eyes again, so Rosaline just pulls her closer and rocks them back and forth, eyes meeting Benvolio’s through the rearview mirror.

“You’re not stupid, Livia, you’re human.”

“I think he was only with me because he’s planning on running for mayor against Escalus and his dad. Having one of the richest family names in town on his side would help.” Livia laughs, but it’s angry. “God, I hate him.”

It’s then, she looks up and sees who is driving the car, and she sits up abruptly, eyes scanning Rosaline’s face. “Benvolio.” She brushes the tears off her cheeks. 

“Yes?” He glances at them through the mirror again, and Livia looks torn.

“I – I, thank you.” She collapses back into Rosaline’s lap, and Rosaline can see a small, sad smile on his lips.

“Anytime.”

The rest of the ride is quiet, and by the time they get back to their apartment, Livia is nearly passed out.

“Rosaline!” Juliet nearly falls down the steps as she runs out, gathering Livia in a hug the second she gets out of the car. “Oh sweetheart, are you okay?” She gently brushes the tears from her cheeks and smooths her hair back, before wrapping an arm around her. Romeo joins them, taking her other arm.

“I thought you guys where at the cabin?” Rosaline asks, rushing forward to get the door, not noticing how Benvolio is no longer with the group.

“The second you texted we turned around,” Romeo explains. Livia trips on a step, and he stops, scooping her into his arms.

It’s a testament to how tired and worn out Livia is, because she doesn’t even protest.

“Yeah. Family comes first.” Juliet says. She leads the way to Livia’s room, kicking her boyfriend out so they can get her out her dress and into bed. Livia barely speaks, only muttering thanks and goodnight, pushing them out of her room when they start to fret over her.

Rosaline kisses her forehead before slipping out, intent on making her a cup of tea.

“Thank you.” Rosaline says to Romeo as she passes him on her way to kitchen, where she can start of pot of tea.

“No need to thank me.” He says back. Juliet slips out of Livia’s room a few moments later, passing the window before she reaches her boyfriend.

“Ben’s still outside.”

Rosaline nearly drops Juliet’s cup of tea.

“She’s sleeping. We can watch over her. Go.” Juliet gives her a push and Romeo gives her a hopeful sort of smile.

Her heart skips a beat. He didn’t leave.

He’s leaning against his car when she gets outside, breathe visible in the freezing air.

“How is she?” He sits up straighter when he sees her, voice quiet.

“She’s sleeping.” The mug of tea is still in her hands and she passes it to him when she gets close enough.

Her hands shake once he takes the cup, and she stuffs them in the pockets of her jeans so he doesn’t see.

“You could have come inside.”

He looks at her over his cup of tea. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Ben, you wouldn’t have intruded.” She takes a step closer to him, and it hits her how awkward this entire situation is. They haven’t spoken in nearly three months, but when she called, he answered. When she called, he dropped everything to come and help her.

“Thank you. For coming tonight. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

He doesn’t answer. She’s too busy staring at their sneakers to see his reaction.

“I’m sorry. About, you know, everything.” She takes a step closer to him as the wind picks up.

“Me too.” He sips his tea.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Then neither do you.”

His lips quirk up in the smile he reserves for when he dares her to argue back, the smile he saves for when he knows he’s won.

It sends her stomach into a somersault. She left. She ruined everything. But he was still here. He came when she needed him. And he didn’t leave.

She shivers as the wind blows again.

“Jesus, you’re freezing come here.” He places his mug on top of the car and tugs her closer to him, wrapping his coat around her.

Her head hits his chest, and it’s been three months, but she feels like she’s come home. She feels safe.

“You were the first person I thought to call.” She says, propping her chin up so she can look at him.

“Really?”

She tries to nod, but almost hits her nose on his chin. “Yeah. I typed in your number before I realized what I was doing.”

He smiles at her again, the tired, lazy, happy kind of smile he used to give her when she ran her hands through his hair.

“I trust you.” She hides her face in his chest again. “And I miss you.”

Warmth floods her cheeks as his hand cup her face. “Capulet,” He makes her look at him. “Ros.”

Goosebumps erupt on her skin. His eyes flicker to her lips.

“I miss you too.”

She wants to kiss him more than anything. More than anything she wants to fix whatever they broke; she wants them to be friends again.

She wants all the maybes and almosts to become true.

But she can’t. Her sister in pieces upstairs. They haven’t spoken in months.

“Hey, so the plan –” Romeo says, stepping outside, startling them apart. “Oh! Sorry, I can go back inside.”

Rosaline steps away from the car, away from Benvolio.

“What’s the plan?”

Romeo smiles at them like he has a secret, before shaking his head.

“I’m going to go home with Ben, leave you guys the car in case you need anything. Then, when Merc and Puck get back, we’re all going to head to the snake’s house and get whatever Livia left there. Jules said she at least forget her jacket and her purse.” He stops in front of Rosaline, and pulls her into a hug. “She’s going to be okay. Because she has you.” He bops her nose when he pulls away, much like his girlfriend, and then claps Ben on the shoulder.

“I’m going to, umm, yeah.” He slips into the car, winking at them before he’s out of sight.

Benvolio grabs the cup from the top of the car and passes it to her, hands lingering a second longer than they should.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” She asks, too much hope in her voice.

A smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He moves to the car, eyes on her, almost tripping on the curb.

“Wait,” She catches his hand before he slips into the car. Standing on her tip toes, she presses a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. Get home safe.”

She teeters backward, biting her lip so she doesn’t do anything stupid. The smile on Benvolio’s face widens into a goofy grin, and he laughs, just enough to make the strings around her heart loosen.

“Anytime, Capulet.”

Romeo pulls away from the curb, and she watches until they disappear. When she gets back inside, Juliet is waiting for her, with a hug and another cup of tea.

“She’s going to be okay. She has us.” Juliet smiles at her and kisses her forehead before turning to her room.

Rosaline checks on Livia before slipping into her own room. There’s a lightness in her chest, despite the evening. She knows Livia is tough, sometimes even tougher than her.

She pulls the sketchbook out of its hiding place, and looks through all the pages. Her phone dings, dragging her away from her thoughts.

_Made it home safe. Night Capulet. x_

Her heart skips another beat, and for the first time in three months, she feels like she can breathe.


	6. I Found Love and I Saw Stars

It takes her two weeks.

Two weeks before she can work up the courage to actually call him again, two weeks of short texts and questions and doubt.

But sometimes he texts her a picture of a dog or an extra smiley face and it gives her a stupid amount of hope.

The kind of hope that would leave small smiles on her face that Livia teases her about when she comes in from class. The kind of hope that makes her cheeks warm and her stomach flip. The kind of hope she’s almost afraid of.

Tybalt makes yet another toast at the top of the table, celebrating his rise to partner and Rosaline wants nothing to do with it. Livia took an extra volunteer shift at the hospital, Juliet was caught up with Romeo, and everyone else had too much judgement or not enough wine in them to make them agreeable.

She wants out. Needs out, needs a second to breath, away from the disapproving glares of her aunt and the sinking feeling in her gut every time Tybalt’s eyes fall onto Romeo.

The second the party breaks up for coffee, she slips outside, the cool air causing goose bumps to jump on her skin. The first warm day of March had melted into the night, the twinge of February still in the air.

She punched his number in her phone before she reaches the garden, the willow tree almost laughing at her as she passes it.

“Capulet.” He answers the phone before the first ring is even finished. “Are you okay?” There’s a tinge of worry in his voice.

“Yes, sorry.” she slips off her shoes as she moved further into the garden, sick of her heels and her dress and her stupid family parties.

“Scared me there for a minute.” Something ruffles in the background, and he sighs.

“Wanna pick me up?” The words slip out before she realizes what she’s said.

When she called him, she wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Maybe she just wanted to hear his voice. Maybe she missed him. Maybe it was something more.

“Where are you?”

“Capulet Manor.”

“I’ll be there in 15.”

The phone clicks and Rosaline allows herself to be excited.

12 minutes later she’s slipping into his car, Juliet offering her a smile from the kitchen window as she does.

xXx

“Where are we going?” she asks, half an hour later, the radio humming softly between them. Benvolio blinks, and turns to her.

“Not sure yet.” There’s a teasing smile on his lips, one she almost wants to kiss off, but she doesn’t know where they are yet. She doesn’t know what they are. He doesn’t elaborate, and she doesn’t know what to say next, so instead she studies him. His hair is longer. Long enough that it’s starting to curl around his ears, making him look younger and somehow even more attractive at the same time. He has a smudge of purple under his eye, and a dash of yellow paint on his nose.

He’s wearing the sweater, the blue one from the night of the bonfire, sleeves pushed up past his elbows revealing more lines and smudges of paint.

“Were you painting?” She whispers, afraid speaking too loud with shatter the moment.

“Yes.”

“What?”

His smile nearly doubles, eyes crinkling at the edges. “Not sure yet.”

Rosaline rolls her eyes at him, but lets her fingers dance along the lines on his arms. When she gets to his wrist, he grabs her hand and pulls it to his lips, lacing their fingers together.

“How’s Livia?”

“She’s…” Rosaline pauses, looking for the best word. “Better than expected.” In the two weeks since the Paris debacle, she had picked herself back up, threw herself into her school work, started volunteering at the hospital, and still found time to smile and laugh and dance, almost like it never happened. But there were some nights, when she would sneak into Rosaline’s room, quiet and tired, and curl up into bed with her, just to talk, or cry, or not say anything at all. “She’s going to be okay.”

“Good.”

Their hands are still laced together and the radio is still humming quietly between them.

“Where are we going?” She asks again.

“You’ll see.” He kisses her fingers and starts humming along to the song on the radio, and for the first time in what feels like years, Rosaline lets herself be happy.

xXx

They are at least an hour away from home by the time he stops the car, dropping her hand so he can park. An hour away from life and responsibility, from the city, from everything. And it shouldn’t feel like much but it is.

“Where are we?”

He makes a noncommittal shrug and Rosaline tears her eyes away from him so look out the window, and she gasps.

The city is stretched out below them, far away and glittering, the stars twinkling just beyond the mountains.

“Ben, this is beautiful.” She surges forward in her seat so she can get a better view.

“My parents used to take me here as a kid. I’d almost forgot about it.” He pauses, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what made me think of it, but, here we are.”

They have an unspoken rule about parents. They don’t ask questions, they don’t offer sorrys, they let the other say as much as they want, as much as they need.

Suddenly, Rosaline feels like there is way too much space between them. Reaching back, she grabs his hand.

The silence is thick enough that it’s almost drowning. Rosaline pulls her legs up on the seat and turns slightly so she can see him better.

“I’ve been living my life through what ifs.” She says, voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes are trained on hers, clear and open. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, and before he can move his hand back she catches.

“That’s no way to live, Capulet.”

“I know. That’s what I’m trying to say. For the past couple of years, it’s been, what if my parents didn’t die, what if my aunt and uncle didn’t hate me, what if Escalus didn’t break my heart, what if I didn’t kiss you at _Friars_ , what if I stayed that night?” Her heart is pounding so loud she’s almost positive he can hear it, but she pushes on. “I don’t want to live like that anymore. I don’t want to live in the past.”

She turns in her seat so she’s facing him more fully. “I want to live through what’s next.”

“What’s next?” There’s confusion written all over his face, and she wants to smooth out the lines creasing his forehead. She’s not entirely sure if she knows what she’s saying, but she can’t stop now.

“I’m going to kiss you now, if you’re okay with that. And I don’t know what is going to happen next, but I want the possibility of it.” Her hands are shaking, and her heart is pounding. She leans closer, still giving him enough space to move away.

He smiles at her once she’s close enough, and his hands cup her thighs, scooping her over the console so she’s suddenly sitting in his lap.

“I want the possibility of it too.”

Her hands fall to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in ends of his hair.

“I’m sorry, for leaving, for –”

His lips capture hers, effectively shutting her up.

The kiss is soft, slow. The kiss is like coming home.

There is nothing rushing in their movements. His hand cups her face and hers trail down his chest.

“God, I’ve missed you Ros.”

She surges forward to capture his lips again, leaving the slow, soft kisses behind them.

He pulls back, breathing hard, and she almost isn’t able to stop the whine in her throat. 

“Wait.” His voice is ragged, and he grabs his phone, shutting it off before tossing it in the back seat. “Not tonight. They can have any other night, but not tonight.” He says, pressing his lips to her clavicle as she does the same.

Juliet is picking up Livia after her shift. They don’t need her tonight. She’s not going to let something come between them again.

She grabs his face and leads his lips back to hers. This time, the kiss is different, tinged with something more than the ones before it. His hand fumbles along her dress zipper, hers dance underneath his sweater.

“Your hands are cold,” he complains while he kisses his way down her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she says, laughing, moving to pull them away. His hands fall on top of her stopping them.

“That didn’t mean stop.”

She kisses him again, until she stops questioning her past mistakes, until she stops worrying about the last few months, until she can think of nothing but now, the present and him.

They stay like that for what feels like hours, wrapped up in each other, breathing each other in.

He pulls back, mouth red and bruised, pupils blown wide, heavy lidden eyes. He presses their foreheads together, not yet ready to let go.

“What’s next?”

xXx

Livia is in the arm chair when she sneaks back in, sometime between midnight and sunrise. The gray light filters through the blinds, illuminating Juliet on the other couch, holding last week’s newspaper.

“And where have you been young lady?” Livia asks, deepening her voice.

“Do you know what time it is?” Juliet says, trying to flip the newspaper down, but failing miserably.

The girls are able to hold a straight face for about 30 seconds before they burst into smiles.

“No, but really Ros.” Livia says, when Rosaline collapses on the couch next to her.

“I was with Ben.”

“I told you!” Juliet squeals, jumping from the bigger couch to the smaller one, leaving barely any room.

“Excuse me for not believing my sister was out galivanting with her ex-boyfriend until ungodly hours of the morning.” Livia says, attempting to push Juliet off.

“I was not galivanting.” Rosaline protests, but both girls roll their eyes.

“Did you have fun?” Juliet asks. She flutters her eye lashes, and Livia giggles.

“Yes.” Rosaline attempts to blow a curl out of her eyes, but it doesn’t work. “And he’s not my ex-boyfriend.”

The confession slips out before she can stop it. Both Juliet and Livia stop squirming.

“What?” Juliet says.

Livia pushes them and they all fall to the floor. “Explain!”

“It was a lie. A fake relationship.” Rosaline can’t bring herself to look at them. “You guys looked so happy when you thought I was dating him, and you already told Uncle and I don’t know, it just happened.”

“But I saw you guys together.” Livia says.

“I heard you break up.” Juliet adds.

“You didn’t act like it was a fake when you broke up.”

Rosaline hides her face in the side of the couch. “Maybe the relationship was fake, but the feelings…”

“Oh, my god.” A giggle escapes Juliet and Livia follows suit. “You guys are going to have the cutest babies.”

“I claim full responsibility!” Livia shouts, leaping up from the ground and back onto the couch.

“What! How! I’m the reason they got together in the first place!” Juliet says, following her.

“I’m the reason they got back together.”

“Guys,” Rosaline pleads, making them both stop and look at her.

“Aww.” Livia says. “She looks so happy.”

Rosaline grabs a pillow and chucks it at them, but they just throw it back and tease her until they all fall asleep.

xXx

The club is not her scene. The music is loud and its crowded nearly past capacity, but Juliet broke out the puppy dog eyes, and Livia almost got on her knees, so Rosaline came, because while it isn’t her scene, she’s had fun here.

There’s also other parts about _Friars_ she would rather forget, but she can ignore those.

And she might have been persuaded by the chance of the Montague boys showing up, but if anyone asked she didn’t know.

She sees Mercutio first.

“Rosaline! Rosie! Light of my life!” He sweeps her into a bone crushing hug, giving her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I’m so happy you’re smiling again.” He whispers to her before he pulls back, casually falling back into his boyfriend.

Juliet finds her way to Romeo’s side and Livia joins Mercutio and Puck, and then, she sees him. Hair a mess, eyes bright, teasing smile on his lips.

“Benny boy!” Mercutio claps his shoulder, but Benvolio ignores him and doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of her.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” She stands on her tip toes so she can press a kiss to his lips. His hand snakes around her waist and he pulls her closer, deepening the kiss before she can pull away.

Rosaline is pretty sure she can hear Romeo say gross, and Mercutio cheering but she ignores them. He kisses her long enough that their friends silently disappear, leaving them to themselves.

“We don’t have to be here, if you don’t want too. I know you don’t like it here very much.” He says, later, when they tucked against the back wall, near where they shared their first kiss.

“Benvolio Montague are you suggesting we ditch our friends and disappear into the night?” She asks, letting herself fall against the wall, pulling him with her.

His arms come up to stop himself from falling on top of her, caging her in.

“No. I’m no –” He pauses. “Actually, yes, that is exactly what I’m suggesting.” He presses a quick kiss to her lips. “What do you say Capulet? Run away with me?”

“Where will we go?” She slides her hands up his chest, all the way to his hair.

“Anywhere.” He kisses her cheek.

“Everywhere.” He presses another kiss to her throat.

“As long as I’m with you.”

She tugs his hair until he’s closer to her, until she can kiss him without struggling.

She kisses him, hard, tangling her hand in his hair, before pulling back, and pressing their foreheads together. “Yes. As long as I’m with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! The last chapter! Thank you all so so so much for reading and commenting and sticking with me through this. You made my first ever chapter fic a great experience. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Truly, I love you all. Chapter title is adapted from what I thought the lyrics to "Indie Rokkers" by MGMT were. Fun fact, the next lyric is 'in the back seat of your car' and is the main reason I wrote this. I had the image of Ros an Ben in a car somewhere, and it just took this entire fic to get there. Again, thank you so much for reading!


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